Old roles, New Lives
by sonicsora
Summary: Even now, two years later. They still become the Inspector and The Thief, not Sly and Carmelita. Transitioning into a new life, a new life together, is harder than either of them expected. Carmelita/Sly set after Sly 3.


A bit rough around the edges, but I felt like this fic was something that should happen. Sly and Carmelita do after all need time together to actually- you know, TALK. Like actual adults. This is a bit of a backlash against Sly 4 and the fact no one actually talks to each other. Thus comes this wee fic. This has been crossposted to my archiveofourown account as well.

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As soon as she saw _Coop_- Sly emerge from the bedroom, Carmelita shoved a mug of coffee into his hands. The inspector trying to contain her awkward grimace as she moved to pluck her own from the counter. Her tail curled tightly around her own leg as she stared intently downwards, avoiding Sly's gaze.

"Certainly took you long enough to get up." She groused into the mug, back turned towards the raccoon. Clearly her black coffee swirling in the cup was the most interesting thing in this kitchen. Not the half dressed man in her kitchen.

The whole thing, it still was strange. It was hard not being Inspector Fox around Sly. It was like sliding back into a familiar skin, so easy and natural she forgot he was her boyfriend. Carmelita had managed to get it under control, but it all fell apart last night. The first time they actually had sex, together, as a couple. One of his smarmy lines did the opposite of its intention and left her feeling more irritated half way through the foreplay than aroused.

"I'm a late sleeper." Sly calmly answered back, when she stole a glance over her shoulder he was leaning against the counter sipping at his coffee. His eyes were firmly focused on her. "You do brew a mean cup of joe, Carm."

"Thanks." She managed, feeling like an idiot at the fact she could only come up with that. Everything else that sprung to mind was a snappy come back, a sharp retort on the tip of her tongue. It had been nearly two years since they had been like that, but it still sprung up. That nasty impulse was lurking there and she couldn't contain it.

"You want to tell me what's wrong or are you going to keep icing me out?" Sly apparently wasn't oblivious as she had hoped he was. "I thought we talked about this."

Carmelita hid a scowl behind the mug, taking a very slow deliberate sip before turning to face the raccoon. "We did. We did talk about this." Her grip tightened on the smooth surface of the mug. Her urge to deflect and change the subject was hard to resist, but she won the battle with herself as she spoke again. "Sometimes, I still feel like I need to be a cop."

"And that I still need to be a thief. The thief that you need to catch." Sly finished for her as he traced his finger along the rim of his own coffee mug. "If it helps, I still, feel that too."

His admittance made the discomfort slide off of her shoulders entirely, "Really?"

"Yeah, I know I fell into it last night. It, _just_ happened." He placed his drink down, taking a step forward. "I said a few things, I didn't realize how they sounded until this morning."

"Hard for me to miss. You fell into your seductive criminal act." She tucked her hand into the pocket of her sweat pants as she looked at Sly. "It really pisses me off. Makes me think, you're playing me for some scheme."

Sly stiffened at that, frowning slightly, if anything the implication offended him. His ears folded back as he wrinkled his nose. "I wouldn't-"

"I know." She stressed back with a flash of her teeth. "It just happens. Both of us do it. We both just become this role, this version of us we aren't anymore."

"Maybe we should talk to a therapist." Sly lamented somewhat jokingly back with a slow shrug. The whole situation was awkward for both of them.

"Be better than feeling like we're walking on eggshells." Carmelita stated simply back, ears flicking forward as she looked up at him. "I'm tired of this, Sly. I, like what we have." It was surreal at times, but still good, kind. It was what they both needed in their lives. Carmelita was determined to ensure they worked out. After everything that happened on the island, she wanted Sly in her life as much as he wanted to be in hers.

"I do too, Carm." He reached out, resting a hand gently on her cheek. Sly had to admit, he still saw the flash of cop in her, the urge to smack his hand away. "Therapy could be a good idea. Even if I don't really trust some of them." He remembered the orphanage's therapist droning on, boring kids to death or flat out ignoring kids who needed actual help. It left a bitter taste in his mouth at the profession. What he had told Carmelita about it left her knowing he was going to be leery of the idea of anything.

"We need to fix this." Carmelita gently placed her hand over the top of his, leaning into his touch. "I want to trust you, I want you to trust me." Old suspicion was hard to contain when they both fell back into who they used to be.

His expression softened at her relaxation, Sly brushed his finger through the fur of her cheek. "So, we'll give it the old college try. See if it works."

"We better hit the books then." Carmelita released her hold on Sly, stepping away from the racoon to make a beeline towards her 'study' (It was more another copy of her office in Interpol HQ than it was an actual study). "I'll look up some local therapists." She called back.

"I'll make breakfast!" Sly answered, "Eggs and Bacon sound good?"

"Throw in some french toast and I'm in love."


End file.
